


Inspired

by helsinkibaby



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Community: 1-million-words, F/M, Het, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5729218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alone in Israel, Ziva reads Thom E Gemcity's newest novel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inspired

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this weeks "cry me a river" post at One Million Words - Alone (http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/1520169.html)

When she wakes up that morning, for the first few seconds, Ziva is sleeping alone not in a tin roofed hut in Israel. Instead, she's in an apartment in America and she reaches out a hand to the empty space beside her, frowning when she finds it cold. 

Then she remembers where she really is, and when, and why. 

She realises right away why her memory played such a trick on her - it's the rain, falling against the tin roof. The noise is like the clacking sound of the keys of an old Remington typewriter and how many mornings had she woken up like this to that sound, mornings where Tim had slipped from the warmth of their bed to work on the next chapter of his book? She would invariably lie there until she woke properly before padding to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, dropping a kiss to the top of his head as she passed. Sometimes, and these were her favourites, he would take a break before she woke and she would wake up not to the sound of the typewriter but the sound of his voice, the smell of the coffee he held in his hands, the touch of his lips which oftentimes led to the coffee going cold as they ignored it in favour of other pursuits. 

She misses him. 

Sitting up, she pulls the blanket from the bed, wraps it around herself and pads into the kitchen, makes herself a cup of coffee that is nowhere near as tasty as his. Then, still blanket wrapped, she makes her way to the couch, sits down and looks at the hardback book on the coffee table. 

Thom E Gemcity's latest effort - the first to be written since she's stopped tempting him away from his typewriter - sits there, as it has every day for the last week since she finally managed to track down a copy. In spite of all the effort she'd expended, she hasn't been able to bring herself to open it, afraid of what she'll see in its pages. Not that Tim's the vindictive sort, far from it, but heartbreak can do funny things to people - she certainly knows that. 

But it's raining outside and she has nowhere to be so she reaches out for the book, opens it up and begins to read. 

The prose is familiar, achingly so, and she smiles as she reads, picturing the bullpen and the originals behind the name as she does so. Not for the first time, a wave of homesickness sweeps over her, but this is different. This time, she allows herself to miss them, all of them, not just Tim, and she remembers that no matter how she felt when it ended, there had been more good times than bad. 

She's reminded of other good times too, when she comes to a scene that had not been forecast in previous novels. In it, McGregor is sitting in his living room, reading the Sunday morning newspaper when Lisa emerges from his bedroom, presses a kiss to the top of his head as she walks to the kitchen for coffee. McGregor's eyes follow her and Tim's words describe the shirt she's wearing - one of his, McGregor's and Tim's both, and one of Ziva's favourites on both his body and hers - and her appearance, how her curly hair is tousled from sleep and other activities, how her dark eyes shine as she smiles at him over her cup of coffee. Save for the sound of the Remington, it's every Sunday morning, every morning off they ever had together and Ziva can hardly believe he's committed it to paper - Tim had been soundly against importing that particular part of their world into his books. 

Things, it appear, have changed. 

The relationship is a sub-plot in the book, a fairly minor one where Lisa and McGregor admit to themselves, and to Tibbs, that whatever they might have is worth pursuing and it's fair to say that Tibbs takes it better than Gibbs had in reality. And at the end of the book, when McGregor takes Lisa into his arms in a deserted bullpen and kisses her, a single tear rolls down Ziva's cheek. 

She closes the book, stares at Tim's picture on the back cover for a long moment, traces the outline of her cheek with her finger. 

Then she reaches for her phone. 

The message is brief. "Your book is wonderful."

She's not expecting a quick response, or any response really. But when her phone chirps seconds later, the three words she sees there are good for another tear. 

"It was inspired."

Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes and sends another message. 

"I want to come home."

This time, the response is quicker. 

"I'm waiting." 

She sobs and smiles all at once - it's time to stop being alone. 


End file.
